The Oldest of Friends
by ALittleBitOod
Summary: Ian Chesterton has nearly accepted that he will never travel through time and space again, that is until an unexpected stranger arrives at his doorstep.
1. Chapter 1: Unexpected Visitor

**Chapter One-**

The knock at the door could be described as anything but hesitant. Indeed, the usual delay that would accompany such an intrusion at 4 in the morning was remarkably absent as a determined and powerful knocking echoed through the empty and lonely halls of the Chesterton residence, made even more lonely by the absence of a certain history teacher. Ian's head shot up from the book his nose had been buried in, though it was more the ritual of reading rather than an absorption of information. Insomnia had become part of his life ever since he, a man of science, had been introduced to the fantastical wonders the universe had to offer. Suddenly his mind was in a constant state of unrest as he tried to process his experiences as a passenger on the TARDIS. While it was all happening it was easy to accept such alien notions when they were staring you in the face, but to be haunted at night by memories of extreme fear, pain, awe, and disbelief makes sleep an illusive companion.

The second knock was with even more force, though it was far from panicked. It was this that spurred Ian into action, bolting up from his chair and allowing his book fall with a sad thud into his carpet, the name of said book completely erased from his mind. Quickly, Ian approached the door, but hesitated once he reached his destination. The possible creators of the brutish noise ranged from a horrific killer with a bloodied axe to the deranged woman who sometimes occupies the corner of Main Street calling to anyone who would listen about the the end of days. Loon. Suddenly Ian questioned if he shouldn't try and sneak into his bed and pretend he hadn't heard the insidious knocking. This trail of thought was abandoned when the third knock wrenched from his lips a strangled "Who's there?"

Ian grimaced with the pathetic tone in his voice, he was never one for being caught off guard and tried to maintain control even in situations where he did not have the upper hand, yet something about this knock unnerved him. There was something almost... familiar about it. He tried again to assert control.

"Any murderers, solicitors, or hooligans are not welcome."

"How about a very old friend and a good lookin' dame?"

Ian's eyes furrowed at the exuberance that accompanied the pronunciation of "very," as if there was some kind of joke that it carried. Again, there was something there that struck a cord with him. Before he fully realized what he was doing, Ian found himself reaching for the lock and pulling the heavy door open with a slight creek, revealing a pale slender man in a brown trench coat. His eyebrows were raised to a comical level, and a grin stretched across his face. Behind him, a tale woman with red hair and an expression that Ian was sure mirrored his own; utter confusion. That emotion was quickly changed to shock as the man threw his arms around Ian with a familiarity that seemed to corroborate the man's original claim that he was an old friend, but no matter how familiar the man seemed, Ian was certain he had never seen the strange man before.

"Bloody hell, Ian. It's great to see you! Or should I say _sir_ Ian, you heroic old coot, you." The man said, withdrawing from the hug and making his way down the hall, and deeper into Ian's home.

"I'm sorry, I have..." Wait. _Sir _Ian? He couldn't mean... No. That was over 700 years ago. It couldn't be...

The woman who seemed equally confused at first seemed to have found her footing while Ian was trying to process the inconceivable, and stepped through the doorway straight up to Ian.

"Donna Noble, sorry 'bout him. Though, I suppose you'd know more about it than me! Lovely house you've got here. Nice and big, quite big. Does that mean you've got a family? A good lookin' man like yourself must have a lovely lady. 'Course I'd be..."

At this point, the woman- Donna, rather- continued to talk, but it fell on deaf ears, as Ian's were ringing as his heart sped up. _You'd know more about it than me. Sir Ian. _It had been four years since his "enlightening," as he had come to call it. Six years according to his own time stream.

"You're..." Ian said plainly, as if he could not grasp the truth, even after the hardest of mental labor. He tried to simulate intelligent speech, but _the _word would not come out. He had wrestled with his decision to end his adventures with his guide to the universe. Part of his mind would always thirst for the knowledge that _all of time and space_ had to offer, and that part spent nights wishing for this moment. It is also that thirst that pushed him into the time machine and back home.

"Come on, I can see the old gears spinning away. Out with it," the young man's already ridiculously wide grin somehow stretched even wider, as if Ian's internal struggle to reject realism for reality afforded him a great amount of amusement. "So then. Who am I?"

"The Doctor."


	2. Chapter 2: Questions

Greetings! AH! So, my friend who shares this account with me neglected to mention she was going to upload this story until after it was uploaded. As in, before I could edit it. Sorry for any errors! Also, thanks for the very nice reviews! I really appreciate it. So yeah, thanks for reading, hope you enjoy it!

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**Chapter Two-**

"So, out with it. Who am I?"

"The Doctor." Even as the word fell out of his mouth, Ian didn't believe it. This man was clearly not the avuncular old man he traveled the galaxy with. This was a rubber-faced stranger who smelled a bit like dusty books with a hint of lemon.

"See Donna? I told you, Chesterton's one of the more brilliant companions of mine. He's quite clever, maybe even more clever than I was back then. Dealing with Daleks, Angels, and threats to the universe sure ages you, though. I bet _I_ could stump _you_ now!"

"But how can this be? You're not even..."

"Oi! Doctor, the poor man doesn't even know about your silly Time Lord magical nonsense. There's no need to give the poor man a heart attack!"

"'Suppose you're right, Donna. Just wanted to see how quick he could catch on. Alright, Ian. Let's get you all caught up before that big brain of yours pops."

Ian took another hard look at the man before him. While there was nothing structurally that resembled _his _Doctor, he could see something in his old eyes that made his heart swell with familiarity. The same exuberance that masks a deep hurt that Ian had noticed during his travels.

"So, I _am _the Doctor, as you have so perceptively deduced despite the obvious evidence which is in front of you: me. So, here's where we stand. As a Time Lord, I posses the ability, among others, to regenerate myself every time I die. That leads me to a new incarnation, and thus, a new body. This is my tenth incarnation, meaning I have regenerated a total of nine times. My incarnations have all experienced the galaxy independently but retain the memory of all previous vessels, ergo I remember _Sir Ian, _the precocious little human, quite fondly. Any questions?"

The Doctor breezed through what Ian was certain a speech he had given before in a single breath, though the ending seemed to be tacked on, almost like a challenge. Ian actually had a thousand questions, comments, speeches, and demands spinning around his head, and he found himself trying to file through his thoughts to find one worth saying. Ian had been waiting for this moment where the Doctor stood before him again; open to unveil the secrets of the universe, time and space, yet he couldn't bring himself to utter a single one of the questions he had accrued during his sleepless nights. Indeed, and entirely new one was the only question he could bring himself to care about at the moment. So, Ian took a deep breath, looked squarely at the Doctor, and began.

"Somehow, I get the feeling I really shouldn't ask you about the science of your regeneration or I will give up on the subject all together and will have to find a new occupation. Seeing as that's not really something I'd like to deal with at the moment, let's settle for a broader question."

The Doctor smiled at Ian's overly analytical mind already processing what leaves most speechless. Oh yes, he knows how to pick his companions.

"I left you and Susan four years ago, but that was actually six years ago, so Barbara and I had to come up with some half-baked excuse that no one bought to explain our two-year absence that we weren't even aware of."

The Doctor moved his mouth as if he was going to say something, but a glare from Donna stopped him in his tracks, so he smiled smugly and nodded for Ian to continue.

"I've had no contact with you, any of your incarnations, or Susan in those four years. Now, you have yourself a time machine that can plop you down anywhere at any time, so if you really wanted to keep in touch," Ian glanced hurriedly at his watch, "4:18 in the morning on a Friday is certainly not the time to do it, which leads me to believe there's only one reason you would _possibly _be in _my_ house, tracking mud across _my_ floors, grinning like toddler with a mouth full of candy. So, let's get to my question, and I only have one."

Knowingly, the Doctor tilted his chin up and said slowly, "And what, dear Mr. Chesterton, would that be?"

"What do you want me to do?"


End file.
